Having immigrated to the United States when I was 8, I had to learn English and simultaneously assimilate to American society. While I was busy attempting to do all of that, my peers seemed always one step ahead of me. And in a way, they still are — culturally. Because I had to learn English at 8 years old, and because I had to learn how to live in a new country at that age, I missed out in the years that followed on what many of my peers learned. Some–if not most?–of this ‘pop culture knowledge’ or what is deemed as ‘common knowledge’ is, in fact uncommon to me. I could not count the number of times I’ve gotten the incredulous looks alongside the “how do you not know that?” or “where were you growing up?” comments when I admit that I do not know some pop culture or “American culture” references.

Of course, I am open to learning and discovering what I may have missed out on when I was at home and not allowed to watch TV because I had to do homework. Don’t get me wrong — I’m not blaming all of my “confusedness” in certain aspects of American culture on my immigration, but it plays a pretty major role in why I may not know what people are talking about when they refer to characters of TV shows that were popular in the 1990′s. Most of the time, I respond to people’s glances and remarks with the “I wasn’t even in the States until 1997″ answer.

Pop culture references aside, I think there’s more at work here than the mere “wow, you don’t know that?” comments. It becomes a question of assimilation and just how much “assimilating” is “enough.” In one of my classes last semester, I learned about the assimilationist policies adopted by the Bureau of Indian affairs in dealing with the American Indians, and the assimilationist attitudes of the Mexican American movement, before it gradually became the Chicano movement. These policies attempted to erase the cultural traditions and ways of life of each respective racial group and called for them to be distinctly “American.” We often covered the topic of cultural authenticity: just what exactly is “American,” anyway? The rest of the world, when they think “American,” they think of what we term “WASPs” — White Anglo Saxon Protestants. But that’s not always the case, obviously. The US as a country prides itself on racial and ethnic diversity, cultural diversity, etc. etc.; at the same time, there seems to exist certain societal expectations of immigrants assimilating to “American society.”

Take the Asian population, for example. Here, I will refer to the “Asians” as one large population, but obviously the different ethnic groups apply here as well. For one, if an Asian is “too Asian” (of which we will define as those who may speak their Asian language to their Asian friends, focus mostly if not solely on Asian pop culture), we refer to them as “fobs” and with that, the expectation for them to assimilate into “American society” seems to be lowered. On the other hand, for the Asians who may have “completely” assimilated into American society (of which we can say those who know nothing of their Asian culture, may not have learned or have forgotten their Asian language, focus solely on American pop culture), we call them “white washed.” And then there are others in the middle — which is where I view myself — who have, for the most part, assimilated to the American society but nonetheless would like to retain (or do retain, because it’s partially ingrained in us) aspects of our Asian culture. Along this middle-part of the spectrum, we are neither “too white” nor “completely fob,” where people would expect you to know enough about American ‘traditions’ and ‘pop culture.’

There is a fine line between not being exposed to certain aspects of American society/pop culture references and plain ignorance, but from my experience these two areas have become mixed. I don’t think people have in mind per se that I am an ignorant person for not knowing X and Y about some aspect of American culture, but yet I don’t think people take into account that different cultural knowledge and traditions are emphasized during one’s childhood.

This goes back to the question of cultural authenticity: just how “authentic” can one be? Especially in a country of such a diverse background and population, there exists misconceptions and judgmental expectations for just what exactly every “American citizen” should know about “America.” But I see this, on a less major but still significant level, as the American assimilationist policy at work here, perpetuated by the American people. What does it actually mean to be American, anyway? We boast of our “melting pot” or perhaps the “salad bowl” population, but this assimilationist attitude is really calling for all of us to be “melted” into the pot instead of accepting the “salad bowl” that exists instead. There is no “the distinct American identity”; there are only versions of it. Until we as a population decide to acknowledge the indistinct American identity, I think that we will continue to hold the assimilationist attitudes instead of adopting an accepting attitude towards individuals residing in America.

And, at the end of the day, we will all still grapple with the question of “cultural authenticity.” What a marvelous world it is!

Having immigrated to the United States from Taiwan when I was eight years old, I cannot say that I was instilled with much (or “enough,”) of my own cultural background. Living the first eight years of my life in Taiwan and amongst Chinese culture, I was exposed to and grew up with learning the Chinese language, barely understanding Taiwanese (which, paradoxically, I learned to understand after I came to the U.S.), and writing Chinese characters as a second-grader should. Obviously, compared to the “ABCs” (an abbreviation for “American-born Chinese” many use), I have an “edge-up” on them in that I picked up bits and pieces of the Chinese and Taiwanese culture.

Even so, taking classes in Chinese literature at school both last semester and again this semester, I’ve come to realize how little I actually know about Chinese history, culture, and literature. Last semester in one of my classes, I studied various poets and writers of the pre-modern Chinese era. When I was younger and taking Chinese School — not even in school in Taiwan — I remember reading the famous poems of poets such as Li Bai (in Chinese). In my class last semester, we read the poems in translation (English) and discussed the cultural and historic background and influences on such poems and poets. Sadly, I think that was one of the only classes I’ve ever taken in my 19 years that really covered any part of Chinese history or Chinese literary history. This semester, in another Chinese literature class, we are reading the great Chinese novel Story of the Red Chamber (or Story of the Stone). Almost everyone in my class had read that book in Chinese/English before, or at least knew something about it. I knew nothing. I am almost ashamed at how little I actually know about my own culture.

That is one reason to why I almost wished I had lived in Taiwan for a few years longer than I did. In second grade, I wouldn’t have learned the great Chinese poets nor about the timeless Chinese classics; why would I? We never learned any history in first or second grade either, and I don’t expect to have. I suppose the kind of “cultural education” I’m saying I wished I received would probably have been junior high or beyond. But obviously, had I lived in Taiwan until then, my grasp of the English language would probably have not been as strong and I probably would have had an English accent. Moving here in elementary school gives one the best of both worlds in eliminating any accent on either end of the two languages.

Anyhow, even if I did wish I had gained more insight and knowledge of my own culture, it’s never too late to start. I am happy my school has such a great Chinese (East Asian) Department. Thank you, Berkeley!